pafp Digging up every constellation | stargazing & starclan

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

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Snakeblink has a particular affection for the stars, perhaps because they are the sole thing he can see when the eye of the moon blinks shut and disappears from the night sky. There’s little his eyes can glimpse in the dark, but the soft glow of celestial bodies far above has been a constant his entire life, distant and indifferent, and he has grown fond of them for it.

And then the stars went and walked the earth.

He only saw a little of it, that day, Starclan descending upon the warring colonies. He had run away from the main body of the battle early on, leading his adversaries on a wild chase through the high weeds all the way to the river so he had the home ground advantage to counteract them outnumbering him two to one. He didn’t even see Cicadastar deal the infamous killing blow — but when he trudged back to the stage of it, drenched to the bones with as much water as blood, he remembers the way their ancestors had glittered among their flesh and bones counterparts, looking as if the reflections of starlight on water had peeled off the surface of the river to stand on solid ground.

He remembers the awe, and the fear. The feeling of standing at the edge of something marvelous and terrifying, at facing down the beginning of a great change. He had drunk their parting words and tasted cold on his tongue, the bitter tang of battle washed away by celestial waters.

There had been no one he recognized in that grim crowd of starlit specters. He wishes there had been; he wishes that, like leaders and medicine cats, he could reach out to that dark beyond and find comfort in the presence of those long gone. But he cannot: no matter how drawn to both positions he is, or how fascinated by the healing arts, he hasn’t been chosen. The closest he can get to parlay with the stars is when he is alone at night and staring up at them in mute petition.

This is what he’s come to do now. He carefully navigates his way out of camp under the distracted eye of the waxing moon and her faint light, wary of the grasping limbs of beech trees and the gorge that yawns wide open, awaiting a single wrong step. The mild weather of Newleaf has brought many of his clanmates out in this way, he knows, watching for shooting stars and constellations, but tonight he seeks a different kind of stargazing.

With his poor eyesight, it takes until he’s nearly on top of @BEESONG before he notices the medicine cat’s presence. He backpedals before he can walk on their tail. A cautious sniff of the air tells him he has circled all the way around to where they’ve stashed the temporary healing den: a few more steps and he’s have rudely crashed through it.

”Ah, Beesong,” he greets, apologetic. ”I did not see you there. Have you come to… commune with the stars?” Should I leave you to it? goes unsaid but heavily implied.

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely

  • Snakeblink • he / him. 37 ☾, riverclan warrior
    — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
    — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo


 
beesong would not forget that day. war has a funny habit of sticking with someone long after it's over, follows you like your own shadow. the screeches echo in the stillness of night like phantoms, and the healer tries to drown them out however possible. so much bloodshed, all because the marsh colony refused to share a quarter of their domain with rain's group; the forest had been large enough for both colonies to coexist, briar's call for war had been unnecessary. the triviality is almost funny enough for beesong to bark a bitter laugh. like kits fighting over a piece of prey... except with much greater stakes.

sometimes he wonders if briarstar ever regretted it. he wonders how she'd slept through the night with the knowledge that she'd killed so many with her selfishness.

tonight, like most nights, sleep evades them. or, perhaps more accurately, they evade sleep. how could they ever think of rest when the threat of windclan persists? another attack on riverclan's own side of the border, and this time, a cat had died. beesong doesn't know whether they should be thankful it wasn't one of their clanmates or worried that it was a windclanner that'd fallen. sootstar's wrath knows no bounds; they're almost certain that she would retaliate against riverclan somehow. especially since it was one of her own former council members that'd killed that windclan warrior... even if juniperfrost had crossed the border, had threatened hyacinthbreath's child's life, sootstar does not see reason. when there is an opportunity for blood to be spilled, she would pounce on it like a huntress stalking her prey.

worries throb behind his skull, the healer's jaw clenching and unclenching with an ache that seems to be perpetual these days. beesong's gaze finds the stars as he sits outside his makeshift den, humming to himself in a pitiful attempt to quiet his rushing mind. but the only thing it accomplishes is distracting him from the approaching pawsteps of another. it isn't until snakeblink is almost physically on top of him that beesong notices his presence, and he startles, his eye blown wide as he teeters sideways to avoid the collision.

the healer barely catches himself before he collapses onto his side, his paws fumbling to regain balance. "great stars above," beesong hisses, forcing the fur along his spine to lie flat again as he swivels his head to look at the other. it's just snakeblink... he realizes once the lead warrior speaks up. the taller tom claims that he hadn't seen beesong, and the cinnamon tabby snorts, narrowing his eye. "really?" there's not much of a bite behind his words. what little annoyance he'd felt at nearly being trampled by the near-sighted warrior fizzles out quickly, leaving him behind with his anxieties once more.

snakeblink asks them if they're trying to commune with the stars. beesong blinks, turning their eye back onto silverpelt with a smile that is thrust upon their lips for show. "afraid not. i leave the communing for the half-moon meetings." that's more than enough communing for the small feline, but they let that go unspoken. contrary to what most would expect from a medicine cat, beesong has never regarded the stars with anything more than wary respect. there's an underlying resentment that they keep locked away, where no one could ever find it. indignation for being forced into this role, in a clan that is not quite a home under the man who killed rain. but in the same breath that they hate the stars for it, they love them. how could they ever fully despise the ones they'd called friends in life?

beesong remains silent for an uncomfortable minute, his eye seeming to seek something in the galaxy overhead before he exhales quietly and turns back to snakeblink. "and? what about yourself? surely you aren't up this late just to trod on unsuspecting clanmates." eager to get snakeblink's attention off of himself and avoid scrutiny, the healer tips his head and raises a brow.
 

Nose tucked into the pillow of his blonde tail, the sandy creature blinks blearily from the edge of the temporary camp. Snakeblink is towering over the resting form of their healer, an exchange although a bit tense earns a soft smile from the peacefully spectating clanmate.

commune with the stars, Dogteeth often forgets how the medicine cat is able to talk to the spirits of Starclan. To traverse the skies for all eternity- what a life. Wait, did that mean he wished to die? Dogteeth is suddenly stirred fully awake. He pushes forward, padding gently across the sands to settle near the two.

" two of the busiest bees in the hive and you’re both up so late " Dogteeth’s voice cracks a bit from sleep. " pun… unintended " he chuckles softly and rubs under his eyes as he realizes the subconscious play off Beesong’s namesake.



  • — Dogteeth
    — twenty-five moons
    2023 VOICE & ACCENT
    — warrior of Riverclan
    — gay | crushing on n/a
    — small curly-furred blonde and tan tom with blue eyes.
    — very gentle soul / easily upset and sensitive
    — deals a nasty bite
    BIOGRAPHY——— ✧
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(=^・ェ・^=))ノ彡♡ ”Care if I join you boys~?” Irritatingly coos Darterwing as she moves without invitation up beside them. What were we doing… star-gazing huh? She looks up into the great sky, silverpelt reflecting in her eyes. She smiles, wondering how many of them were looking right back down on them… I hope you’re among them, Locust. For a quiet moment she wishes the she-cat was still here, she’d be much better company than these toms, she thinks with amusement.

”Don’t any of you ever wish you could take a paw and pluck one or two stars out from the sky and keep them? Oh- just imagine putting some in your fur?! How gorgeous that’d be.” She fantasize before wondering, ”Hey pine-cat, can you tell me this? Do StarClan cats wear stars in their fur?” She directs towards the medicine cat, who was likely use to the once demeaning but now friendly-teased nickname.
— tags
 
MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

Though Beesong's is ever-patient and his reply pleasant enough, there's a heaviness in his words that has Snakeblink tilting his head in consideration. He can't see the expression on their face well enough to guess at any deeper feeling, though, and they speak again before he can find the words to pry.

"Sleep eluded me, and I thought the stars would make for better company than a sleeping den. Or perhaps I come to commune," he adds darkly, quirking up a playful smile that belies his overly dramatic tone. "Peering into the mysteries of the stars, hoarding their wisdom... Maybe my careless trodding is actually part of a dastardly plot to take your place. But I shan’t incriminate myself with hypotheticals."

Careful not to step on Beesong again, he settles himself near the other tabby in silent companionship and tilts his head back to stare at the stars once more. The silver river above reflects the one below, glittering lights instead of mere water. Do Starclan cats fish in its depths as they do? Or is silverpelt the spine of some colossal cat?

The arrival of two more cats distracts him from his idle musing. The low rumble of Dogteeth’s sleep-rough voice has his ears flicking back, tracking the blonde tom’s approach. "Only one bee here,” he notes, tilting his head in greeting. His head swivels as he follows Darterwing’s approach, tilting when she speaks of pulling stars down to earth. “There are certainly enough up there for every Starclan cat to wear a few dozen each.”

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely

  • Snakeblink • he / him. 37 ☾, riverclan warrior
    — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
    — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo